Can't Stop, Got A Date With Hate
by Tropical Medlies
Summary: When rumors of gay-bashing arose, people automatically looked to them, wondering if they were in the line of fire. Up until now they hadn't been. One-shot.


"Watch it, dyke."

Hissed in Fiona's direction, the words were accompanied with the shove of a shoulder-on-shoulder, and she stumbled back, slamming hard into the row of lockers. Flicking her hair out of her eyes and clutching her binders to her chest, she gazed up at the hockey players, all of whom were sporting the same menacing grins. Normally she would have brushed it off and gone about her day after throwing a jab at them about the size of their penises in relation to their need to bully others, but today was different. There were at least six of them versus the one or two she was used to, and all of them were at least half a foot taller than her and had forty pounds or more on her.

In short, she was terrified.

They let her go after a few tense seconds in which Mike Dallas stared her down, Fiona unable to tear her eyes away. When they finally moved on down the hall, clapping some other students on the back and greeting them playfully, her shoulders slumped in relief, and she was surprised to find tears in her eyes.

She wasn't stupid; she knew that homophobia was alive and well in the world, and surely was in the halls of Degrassi. She herself had never encountered it herself outside of her brief stint in dating Riley, but that had been more of an internalized, self-hating homophobia than anything malicious towards others. The new hockey players were shaking things up, though - she had heard as much from whispers in the hallway and several furtive looks thrown her way in classes. She was the token class lesbian, she knew that, so when rumors of gay-bashing arose people automatically looked to her, wondering if she was in the line of fire. Up until now she hadn't been.

Her legs decidedly more unsteady than they had been before her little encounter with Dallas and his friends, she pushed off from the lockers, her mind foggy with slow-moving thoughts. One that seemed to rise from the others was_ He looked so angry. _And he had. There was a distinct look of hatred in Dallas's eyes, and that was what had made Fiona so scared, what had made her keep her mouth shut. She had no doubt that he was the kind of guy to get violent if someone - even a girl - displeased him.

Which left her stuck between a rock and a hard place, really.

—

"Imogen, right?" A smooth voice rolled in over her left shoulder, and Imogen turned to face the speaker, finding it to be one of the new hockey players. He was of average height, brown hair, nothing really too special about him, but he was offering her what appeared to be a friendly grin, so she smiled in return.

"The one and only at Degrassi! And you are?"

"Luke." He swung his backpack off of his shoulder and took the seat next to her at the lunch table, not even waiting for an invitation. It wasn't until then that Imogen noticed more guys behind him, all dressed in the standard jacket uniform of the hockey players that had transferred to Degrassi. Each one of them took a seat as well, until she was surrounded. The little voice in the back of her head that didn't often pop up until it was too late began to speak, telling her that maybe she should cut her losses and go, that this seemed like a weird situation to be in.

She turned her head slightly and tried to crane her neck, looking for someone, anyone that she knew. Fiona, Eli, Adam, Mo, Zig, Maya, anyone from any of her classes that she could find and just strike up a conversation with so that she didn't feel so trapped. Her gaze slid back to the hockey players when she realized that they were all staring at her expectantly. They must have been talking to her, she realized, and she flushed. "I'm sorry, what?"

The original guy, Luke, laughed, and repeated himself. "I said, you're a senior, right?" Imogen nodded, sliding her books together in a neat pile, getting ready to enact on the flight part of her fight-or-flight instincts. "I know a few of the seniors, yeah. My buddy Dallas here is one." He clapped a hand onto one of his friend's shoulders, and Imogen recognized him as the player who was living with Adam's family. She hadn't heard stellar things about him, but Adam seemed to like him, so he had to be okay. She trusted his judgment.

"Nice to meet you, Dallas," she said brightly, holding out her hand. Dallas chuckled - although this, she noted, seemed to be directed at her rather than at her words - and shook her hand briefly.

Luke was eyeing her like she was something there to be looked at instead of talked to now, and she was regretting the dress with the low-cut neckline she was wearing today, paired with the heavy ring necklace she often wore that attracted further attention towards her cleavage. Not so subtly, she crossed her arms in front of her on the table and bit her lip. "What made you come over and talk to me?" She was hoping that she was reading too far into things and that they were just trying to be friendly, but every single part of her was getting serious creep vibes now.

Luke's eyes took a while to roam back to hers, and with every passing second she felt her face growing hotter. If only Fiona could have been there; she would have set them all straight in a second and made some of them cry, too, Imogen thought furiously. "Just wanted to make a new friend," he drawled. "So, buddy, what do you say we go out this weekend? Just you and me?" He put an arm around her shoulders and she flinched, working her way out from under it.

"Um, you know, while I totally would, I don't think I can," she muttered, eyes averted from him as she stuffed her books into her bag. She could feel his eyes boring into her skull, and as she stood to leave he grabbed her arm roughly. "What the hell!"

"Why don't you give me an actual reason?" Luke said, an eyebrow cocked in challenge, like he was expecting her to come up with nothing. Imogen set her jaw in defiance.

"Because my _girlfriend _wouldn't like it, you - you jerk!"

Luke's hand fell away from her arm like he had been burned, and he even pushed her away from him a little, causing her to stumble. She caught herself and spun around to give him a piece of her mind, but he was looking at her with disgust on his face. "You're telling me you're a faggot?" he spit out, and Imogen blanched in the face of one of her most hated words.

A hush had fallen over the rest of the hockey team and suddenly Dallas called out to Luke. "Yo, I bet her girlfriend's that dyke Fiona!"

Imogen glared at him, bag clutched to her chest as if it could ward off anything they would say to her. "You shut your mouth about Fiona! She's worth ten of you, you homophobic, misogynistic asshole!"

The looks she got in return made her realize just how much shit she had gotten herself into as she fled the lunchroom in search of Fiona.

—

Adam and Eli exchanged glances as they stood in the auditorium, watching as Imogen tried to comfort a sobbing Fiona. They definitely wouldn't have pegged Fiona to be the one to break down when Imogen had grabbed the boys after their last class and they had all met in the auditorium to discuss what had just happened. She had gotten halfway into the auditorium and had started crying, and from there it had consisted of Imogen trying to make her stop while the two boys looking awkwardly away.

"Eli?" Clare called, the door to the auditorium closing with a bang. The two boys sprang to greet her, taking the opportunity to give Imogen and Fiona a minute alone.

Imogen sighed, her forehead pressed against Fiona's temple, one hand on Fiona's cheek and the other wrapped up in both of Fiona's. Fiona kept her head bowed, shoulders wracked with sobs every few seconds or so, but she was calming down steadily. "Shh, Fi, it's okay," she soothed, rubbing her thumb over Fiona's hand. Fiona swallowed, taking a few deep breaths, and finally straightened up and away from Imogen.

Imogen studied her, eyebrows knitted together in concern. She brushed Fiona's curls away from her eyes, trying to get a clear look at her face and gauge how she was now. "Hey, I meant what I said. It's going to be fine, I promise."

Fiona sniffled, pulling her sleeve over her hand and wiping her nose, and that's when Imogen knew that things were really wrong. Fiona would never do that to any article of clothing unless things were at their lowest point. She bit her lip and kept quiet, kissing the spot where her forehead had been resting seconds before and lingering until Eli, Clare, and Adam returned.

"So, you guys had a run-in with the hockey team?" Clare said carefully, not wanting to upset Fiona further. Imogen sent a furtive look Fiona's way and the nodded.

"One of the hockey players - Luke, he said his name was - hit on me, and when I tried to leave he got angry and grabbed my arm. I told him I had a girlfriend and he said I was a fa - " She cut herself off, not wanting to say the word. She didn't have to; the rest of them got it. Eli's upper lip was curled in distaste, Adam was shifting from foot to foot, and Clare was visibly uncomfortable. "And then another one, Dallas, said that Fiona was a dy - must have been my girlfriend. I didn't really dispute it."

Clare just nodded, reaching a hand out to touch Eli's forearm without looking at him, knowing him well enough to still his fist before he reacted and punched the nearest object. Even Adam was letting the information sink under his skin, letting it break his normally unflappable exterior, and he frowned hard.

"They called me a dyke and shoved me into a locker."

Everyone looked to Fiona, surprised that she had spoken, surprised that she had said dyke, surprised that the jocks had actually gotten that physical with her. Imogen let out a little squeak; this was the first time she had heard anything from Fiona. All she had gotten out of her girlfriend at first was that she was scared about what had happened to her, but she had just assumed that they had yelled at her or something.

"Well, this shit has to stop," Adam said decisively, shoving his balled-up fists into the pocket of his hoodie, out-of-character anger set in the lines of his face.

—

Adam scanned the hallway, holding onto his locker door so it looked like he was doing anything other than keeping a lookout for one Becky Baker. Every time he saw a head of blonde hair he started forward only to be disappointed and pull back, frustrated. His plan was to tell her to call off her brother, hoping that she would do it since the two of them seemed to have…_something_ going on lately. He didn't know what to call it.

"Adam Torres," a voice purred from beside him, and he jumped, slamming his locker door shut. Becky was standing beside him, books held primly to her chest. He sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets, and leaned his shoulders forward.

"Becky, can we talk?"

She frowned, eyebrows furrowed. "About what?"

He paused for a minute, taking a second to make sure none of the hockey players were around to overhear their conversation before returning his full attention to Becky. "About your brother. Becky, he called one of my best friends a faggot today."

Her eyebrows shot halfway to her hairline. "Well, he shouldn't be using such language." Adam waited for her to go on, to say something about he shouldn't have been commenting on Imogen's sexuality like that either, but she said nothing further.

"What about him, you know, insulting Imogen's sexuality?"

Becky shrugged her shoulders. "Homosexuality is a disease, Adam. Luke pities her. He shouldn't have used that language, yes, but he can't condone her lifestyle choice, either. Now, I was wondering, would you like to get lunch with me?"

Adam stared at her, wondering how the fuck Becky could stand there and talk like that as if it were perfectly normal. Maybe in her twisted little world it was, but in real life people didn't think like that and get away with it. "No, I don't want to get lunch with you. Do you know that I'm transgendered?"

He watched as Becky's face went through so many emotions that it was almost comical to see her struggle to land on one, and she finally settled on pitying. "I'll pray for you, Adam," she said, reaching to touch his arm before thinking better of it and turning to leave.

"Go to hell!" he called after her cheerfully, smirking when at her misstep when she heard him.

—

Fiona took her books out of her locker, loathing the fact that her locker was located right in the middle of the hockey player's lair. She shouldn't have come back to school a week late, because she was the only student who wasn't a hockey player that had a locker in this section of the hallway, and now with the fact that she was a lesbian out in the open she was terrified to be caught there alone at the same time as them. So far she had been lucky in the past couple of days, but she knew her luck had to run out at some point.

"Yo, dyke!"

Today was that day, apparently.

She screwed her eyes shut and closed her locker door softly, turning and facing Mike Dallas, who was towering over her. He apparently had the locker next to her, and was smirking down at her. She kept her mouth shut, hoping that he would just spew some words at her and leave her alone if she just stood there and took it. "What, you can't be bothered to say something to me? Too good? You know, I've heard shit about you, Fiona. People talk a lot about you."

She swallowed, risking a glance behind her to see if anyone was in the hallways. No one that could help her, that was for sure. No teachers, no friends, no one who would intervene on her behalf if things got ugly enough. "People don't really seem to like you around here. I wonder why. Ugly dyke like you?" She bit her lip, willing the tears that were pooling in the corners of her eyes to go away.

"Just shut up, okay?" she managed, her voice sounding pathetic to even her own ears. He chuckled lowly, leaning in.

"You know, maybe if you got some dick you'd be normal. I can help you with that. I'd be doing you a favor." Fiona's eyes went wide and she spun around, her books held protectively to her chest like they were armor. As she rounded the corner she slammed straight into Imogen, who managed to catch the both of them and stop them from falling. She took one look at Fiona and bit her lip, shifting her bag on her shoulder and then drawing Fiona into a hug, one hand on the back of her head and the other rubbing her back.

When she looked over Fiona's shoulder, which was quaking with violent sobs, she saw one Mike Dallas watching the two of them with his arms crossed and a smug smile on his face.

—

Imogen had taken to looking over her shoulder whenever she was alone ever since the Luke Baker incident, and ever since Fiona had practically become a wreck after her latest run-in with Mike Dallas. It was starting to take its toll on her and more often than not she thought about just running straight to Principle Simpson and giving up on all of this. Surely he would expel them or do something worse than just detention, because if all they got was a slap on the wrist the bullying would be so much worse than it had been.

Eli and Adam tried their hardest to help out when they could, and even Mo and Zig had stepped in a couple of times when they saw the hockey guys yelling something Imogen's way. Once, she had been walking to her class and Luke had stepped in her path only for a fellow senior by the name of Jake to quite literally pick a fight with him and let her get away. So, there were people helping her - and Fiona, by proxy - but they couldn't be around all the time.

After WhisperHug's band practice on Wednesday afternoon, she found herself waiting outside for her dad to pick her up. Mo had offered her a ride home, but her dad had already left at that point so she cheerfully declined. Since most of the school was either home or heading home by then, she felt like she could finally let her guard down for a few minutes while on school property, so she set her stuff down on the front steps and took out her sketch pad.

Not even five minutes into her art homework a shadow was cast across the page and she slowly glanced up, her heart sinking when she saw several members of the hockey team backlit by the sun. "Hey, freak," Luke said, crouching down next to her and taking her sketch pad away from her. "Oh, nice. Looks like some real nice work." He ripped out a few of her latest pages haphazardly, effectively ruining them, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from crying out. There went weeks of work. Then he tossed it back on the ground next to her before standing up.

"So you have your little friends sticking up for you now, huh? I don't see any of them here with you now. All alone." Imogen's heart was racing, and she had a sickening feeling about what was going to happen next. Scrambling to her feet, she abandoned her stuff and tried to push past the hockey team, but Luke grabbed onto her arms and held fast. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where are you going? We're just having a little fun, aren't we? Get to know each other better?"

Imogen reacted on pure instinct and screamed - loud enough to attract attention, apparently, because in the next moment Luke was dropping her arms and shoving her away from him, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. She stumbled over the step behind her and fell on her wrist, hard, just as Simpson burst through the door. "What the hell is going on out here?" he demanded, looking between Imogen and the hockey team, all of whom were focused anywhere but on him.

Imogen just cradled her wrist and burst into tears.

—

If Simpson hadn't already expelled each and every member of the visiting hockey team that Fiona, Imogen, Eli, Clare, Adam, and the others who had helped them out could point to and associate with the bullying, Fiona would have ripped Luke Baker to shreds for what he had done to Imogen. In fact, when she had found out about it after getting Imogen's call and going to the hospital to meet her, she had completely shut down for a few hours before returning with an absolute vengeance, swearing like Imogen had never heard before and calling her mother to figure out how they could go ahead with pressing charges.

Simpson had been horrified to find out that all of this had been going on right under his nose, and even more horrified that neither girl had been reporting it, but after a long explanation from them he seemed to understand why. Still, between how the two of them had been looking over their shoulders and couldn't focus on their schoolwork, not to mention Imogen's broken wrist, he couldn't believe that they had had to endure all of that because of a couple of "harmless bullies," as most parents would call them.

—

"Hey, Immy," Fiona said, placing both of their trays down in front of her girlfriend. Imogen gave her a tired smile. She still wasn't sleeping well after what transpired with Luke. She couldn't stop imagining how things could have gone so much differently had she not screamed, or had Simpson not been there. She had nightmares nearly every night, and she had to call Fiona to calm her down. Fiona was faring better than her - and Imogen was glad for that - because Fiona was the kind of person who was resilient.

"Hey, Fions." The other kids at their table all smiled at Fiona in greeting before going back to their conversations at hand, and Fiona took her seat next to Imogen. "You know, you really don't have to keep doing this. I can carry my books to class and get my trays and stuff."

"Seriously, Imogen, it's not a problem. As long as you have that cast I'm going to do it for you. You're my girlfriend and I'm going to take care of you." There was the unspoken "because I couldn't do it before" lingering in the air between them, but Fiona chose to ignore it and eat her wrap instead, not meeting Imogen's eyes.

Imogen grabbed Fiona's hand under the table with her good one and squeezed it, catching her eye and smiling at her reassuringly. "We're okay," she mouthed, and Fiona nodded in return.

"I know," she mouthed back.


End file.
